


Eggnog

by bballgirl3022



Series: 25 Days of Christmas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Het and Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bballgirl3022/pseuds/bballgirl3022
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby and Ellen drink some eggnog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eggnog

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1: Thanks to moonofblindness for giving me this prompt and for being an awesome cheerleader.
> 
> A/N 2: Follows Christmas Story.
> 
> A/N 3: Thanks to moonofblindness for looking this over for me.

The house was finally quiet.

Adam and Jo had left awhile ago. Jo had been pining for the younger man since they’d been brought back. Ellen hadn’t seen Jo so gone over a man since Dean all those years ago.

Ellen supposed Adam wasn’t a bad choice for her new daughter. He was a blend of Dean’s stubborn passion and Sam’s quiet intelligence. He was softer around the edges having not grown up around hunters. It was in perfect contrast to Jo’s hard lines and seeming impenetrable walls. All in all, Ellen was quite happy with her daughter’s choice.

Dean and Castiel had followed not long after the argument between Dean and Gabriel had ended. A giggling Sam and Gabriel left not too long ago, leaving Bobby and Ellen to their eggnog and rum.

The duo is about three-fourths of the way through the bottle when the drinking starts to slow and the stories start to flow.

Funny stories at first, like how clueless Dean and Castiel have been for so long, how unsubtle Gabriel had been about perusing Sam, and how it took so long for Adam to grow a pair and make a move on Jo. Then stories about their younger years turn to melancholy stories about dealing with lost love and loneliness.

The eggnog is long gone and now they’re on to shots of rum. Alcohol only goes so far to numb the pain of loss, but damn if they don’t try.

Their cheeks are flushed and a pleasant thrum buzzes through them as the bottle is emptied and they attempt to make their way upstairs.

They stand much too close and lean too far into each other’s space for anyone to believe they’re just friends.

Ellen suddenly stops somewhere between the kitchen and the stairs. The movement halts Bobby too. He stumbles a bit before Ellen rights him.

The space between them is non-existent. Body heat is exchanged seamlessly and the comfort it supplies is welcome after so long without.

Ellen glances up quickly before whispering “mistletoe” and pressing their lips together.

It’s messy, wet and uncoordinated from booze and lack of practice, but it’s so good. They finally have someone who has known heartbreak, survived, and was still strong-willed; a person who knew pain and could offer comfort.

The kiss ends and leaves them in a daze of bliss.

Bobby looks up and says, “You lied. There’s no mistletoe.”

A laugh bubbles up from Ellen. “Are you going to start complaining?”

Bobby opens his mouth to answer, but Ellen seals their lips together a second time, putting a stop to whatever inane comment that man was about to make.

Somehow they make it to Bobby’s room. It’s clumsy and they fumble through things, but neither of them is going to complain.

Later when Bobby is snoring lightly, Ellen has to wonder if bringing those lost souls back was to allow them a shot at happiness. Someone had to have plotted something, and watching Bobby sleep like a baby, she can’t help but thank whoever was the ringleader in the plan.


End file.
